


Together We Are Not Optional

by tielan



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Love, relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2015-12-12
Packaged: 2018-05-05 17:39:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5384513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tielan/pseuds/tielan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Co-pilots, after the Drift.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MaverickSawyer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaverickSawyer/gifts).



> _General domestic fluff, especially with Sergio/Caitlin taking in Mako/Raleigh for the holidays for some time out of the spotlight._ I wish I could have written _Hong Kong Shatterdome shenanigans during the 2024 holiday season_ but I don't have the brain right now.

On the fifth day of interviews, the nagging suspicion that Mako has met this woman before becomes a full-blown case of Drift-hangover.

_I’m not looking for intelligent conversation tonight, Yance._

She pauses in the middle of her answer, losing her train of thought – something about her qualifications to pilot a Jaeger in the frontlines of the desperate, last-ditch attempt to take the battle to the _kaiju_. And Raleigh picks up the thread of conversation as neatly as if she’d asked him, and with a faint note of offense in his voice as he tells the woman that Mako’s simulator record was impeccable, and her Drift compatibility with him merely sealed the deal.

“Besides,” he informs the woman, “as it turned out, it wasn’t just a last-ditch attempt but a successful call on the part of Marshall Pentecost.”

“Well, considering one of Pentecost’s moves was to bring you back into the fold, Raleigh, I can’t really argue with that.”

Her smile is brilliant, bright teeth and pink, pouty lips, and Mako is suddenly nauseous with memories that aren’t hers.

She gets through the interview, though, with utmost civility and politeness, and requests a break before the next interview, which Vanessa approves immediately.

“Whatever you want, Mako. You’ve been at this all morning – take lunch.”

Raleigh reaches for her, one hand on her sleeve. “Are you okay, Mako?”

“Yes,” she says, gently moving out from his touch before the memories overwhelm her. “Fine.”

* * *

Mako prefers the interviews from Asian agencies; they’re more likely to treat her as though she did something worthwhile, not just ‘got lucky in a Jaeger’ as one of the American journalists phrased it before Raleigh threw him out and got the news agency banned from the Shatterdome.

“I’m sorry,” he says on the mats later, after a bruising session at Kwoon. “For the stupid interviews and the idiot journalists. I know this isn’t what you wanted—”

She smiles then, because he is Raleigh and he is apologising for something neither of them can help. “The PPDC want us to put a good face on the Jaeger Program. That is our job.”

“But you shouldn’t have to put up with idiots to do it,” Raleigh mutters, his hand brushing over her shoulder, the rough callouses of his palm sending shivers across her skin. “I shouldn’t have to throw people out for being insulting about you.”

It touches her that he cares, but that should not be a surprise; he is her Drift partner. “So many idiots,” she says lightly, “and not enough time to throw them all out.”

He laughs then, leans in to press his cheek to her temple. “For you, Mako, I’d try.”

Mako lingers in the warmth of him for those too-brief moments.

She likes that he is comfortable touching her, although she is not so innocent that she thinks it means anything more; it has been a long time since Raleigh could be emotionally intimate with anyone – since Yancy.

So she savours the moments of affection where they come, and tries not to want more.

* * *

“Do you miss your brother?”

“You two were the toast of Alaska.”

“What do you think your brother Yancy would say if he were here today?”

“Firstly,” Raleigh says with a quietness that belies the anger Mako can feel roiling in him, “Yancy’s not here. Secondly, if he were alive today, I wouldn’t be here. Neither would you, or the rest of the planet – or, if we were, we’d be balls-deep in _kaiju_ because I would never have drifted with Mako and closed the Breach.”

The sleek-suited man with the British accent hastily backpedals, but the damage is done; Raleigh’s answers are terse and he cuts off the interview well ahead of the scheduled fifteen minutes. For a moment, then man seems inclined to protest, before one look at Raleigh’s set face changes his mind.

The instant the door is closed, Raleigh puts his hand on hers. “They’re idiots. Pay them no mind.”

Mako understands – how can she not? But his anger is not hers. They have Drifted together, fought the _kaiju_ , closed the Breach; that is not her fear. She laces her fingers into his. “In Japan, there is an art called _kintsukuroi_. When special pottery or china was cracked and broken, it was repaired rather than thrown out.”

“Silver or gold seams,” he murmurs. “Your father used titanium once.”

“Yes.” The memory burns within her – the wicker seat uncomfortable, her breath held burning in her chest while pop music bounced happily through the iPod speakers and her father carefully poured the metal into the mould around the pottery pieces.

His fingers squeeze hers and his expression is bright and true. “Pentecost used titanium, too.”

* * *

Still, the interviews are tiring – on all of them. People traipsing in and out of the Shatterdome, seeing the inner workings in ways that _sensei_ would never have permitted. But they are not at war anymore, and Hansen- _san_ is not inclined to fight that battle. Although other battles he will take on without remorse.

“We’re done,” he tells Vanessa Gottlieb at the next meeting, scrubbing away at Max’s hide. “You’ve had ten days of interviews. That’s enough. We’re going quiet for a few days until this fucking circus goes on the road. There’ll be no peace for anyone after that.”

The ‘fucking circus’ he refers to is the tour of the Pacific Rim, starting down through South-East Asia and circling slowly around the Rim over the course of a month before ending back in Hong Kong again.

And the ‘stars’ of the show will be the pilots who returned from the Breach; Herc’s made that pretty clear.

_Sorry to throw you to the wolves,_ he said with an attempt at a smile. _But I can’t—Just can’t—_

They left before he broke down; Raleigh nearly dragging her out of the room in his haste.

_We should stay—_

_There’s nothing we can do, Mako._ He wrapped his arms around her, and the resonance of old anguish caught in her throat as much as his. _Nothing will help except time._

* * *

The Wei’s distillery is publically known but difficult to reach. In the days since the Battle of Hong Kong and Operation Pitfall, it has tacitly become Mako and Raleigh’s seclusion space – even more so than their rooms.

“They’ve got some…interesting stuff,” Raleigh comments as he stares at a trio of pottery pigs, made of brown clay and oddly sinuous. “Fans?”

“Some of it. Some were just things that took their fancy; mementoes of places they went, or events.” Loss hits her with an unexpected thump – something about the time of year, or the moment, or Raleigh standing just there as Hu did the last time she was in this room—

“Mako?”

She wants to explain about the lacquered box they gave her last year for the lunar new year, the pranks they played on their Jaeger crews, the day they spoke in nothing but ancient aphorisms – even while in the Conn Pod – utterly ridiculous, and yet utterly hilarious.

She wants to explain about the people who aren’t there, about Herc who grieves when Raleigh no longer does, about the terror of knowing _sensei_ is nowhere in the world.

She wants to explain about the desire to be something other than serene and strong and gracious and grown-up.

She can’t speak through the lumps in her throat.

And Raleigh doesn’t need her to tell him what’s wrong. He just herds her to the couch, holds her while she weeps on his shoulder for more reasons than she knows or can express, and smooths his hand down her hair in silent and steady comfort.

* * *

Mako wakes slowly, warm and relaxed. Her thoughts are soft and drowsy: the pleasure of the weight in her arms, the softness of hair under her fingertips, the feeling that everything's good, everything's right in the world. It's only temporary, she knows. Someone will catch her eye - someone who doesn't need her so desperately, whose cracks she does't have to fix - and she'll walk away. But for the moment, for just a little while, she’ll lie here and pretend she can have this...

She drags in a short, startled breath and thinks, _no, just a little longer, Mako..._

Pushing up from Raleigh breaks the Drifting connection sharply – too sharply. For a moment, they’re screaming behind their eyes, alone in an icy sea stumbling through a wrecked city, all their certainties gone—

Raleigh’s hand cups her face, calloused fingers against her cheek. “Mako.”

She looks down at a gaze unashamed, without artifice or fear – just acceptance. He’s here and he’s hers, and if she never wants him, that’s just what it is.

“Raleigh.” Shifting her weight to one wrist, she brushes her thumb over his lips, feels the tender warmth of the kiss against her fingertip, and realises she’s never reached for him first.

“You don’t have to.”

_But I want to._

Slowly, carefully, she leans down, and he lifts his face to meet her, mouth to mouth, light and sweet at first, before desire draws them deeper.

Still, “Not here,” he says when she shifts on him. Then explains, “In a bed, unhurried.”

His thoughts are hot in hers. Mako grins.

* * *

“Sure you’re ready for this?” Herc asks at the door.

They look at each other. “Yes,” Mako says for them both, and her hand slips into Raleigh’s.

A mighty roar rises as they step out into the sunlight, into the spotlight, gratefulness and adoration from the throats of a million people and more.

They’ll face it together.


	2. Chapter 2

Raleigh grew up at the height of the Jaeger program; he knows how this circus runs. But this is a whole new level of crazy.

He and Yancy were just a heroes then, not the saviours of the world, and they were rock stars, yeah, but there was a war on and people were clinging to the hope they saw in the Jaeger program. Now? Now, the war is won and the Jaeger program can have anything it asks for – except a bit of peace and quiet.

An army of PPDC personnel follow them from dawn to dusk: media liaisons, public relations, officials, flunkies. Then there are the officials wherever they go – state heads, civil authorities, religious leaders, all of whom want to meet with them, speak with them, thank them, be photographed with them.

That’s not even counting the fans – seven billion, give or take a couple of million.

 _If this goes on much longer, I’m going to have a headache,_ he thinks, and wonders if she can hear him. Sometimes she can, sometimes not. It depends whether they’re matching thoughts.

Apparently they are.

 _Not much longer,_ she says, _Field-Marshal Kendral is winding up his remarks._

And, indeed, within five minutes, the speechifying is done. Then there’s the applause, the handshakes, the attempts to engage them in conversation, to demand favours, to elicit promises...

Raleigh doesn’t like the guy talking with Mako right now. It’s the angle of his body, and the way his head is tilted in towards her space. It bugs him. Or it’s bugging her, but she’s being courteous and putting up with him. He finishes his conversation, and steps in, his hand light and definitive against her spine. “Ready to go?”

Her smile is all the mornings and all the evenings for the rest of their life.

* * *

Back at the height of the Jaeger program, Raleigh had all the sex he could handle and some besides. Mako would barely have pinged his radar then – slender and wiry and sharp, when he preferred his girls buxom and curvy. It wasn’t that he was picky, just that he had his preferences.

Of course, now, his preference is pretty much _Mako Mori_.

The way she smiles when she comes to bed? Yeah.

The way she slides her hands over his skin, slow and experimental? Yeah.

The way she wriggles when he’s inside her, testing his patience and his self-control as she shifts on him, all soft and wet and aching? Yeah.

And the way she rolls into the space he leaves when he wakes up to go to the bathroom in the mornings, and then snuggles up against him when he comes back to bed. Oh _yeah_.

That’s all very private, though. Mako doesn’t want to be seen as just his ‘plus one’ and Raleigh can’t discount the possibility once it’s known they’re together. So they use the connecting door when they’re in hotels and make sure to rumple the spare bed to make it look like it’s been slept in.

In the Shatterdomes, pilot quarters are a different business: a shared suite with at least two beds, sometimes more. Raleigh doesn’t think twice about it, but the first time they’re in Sydney and they’re assigned pilot quarters, Mako looks like she’s about to ask for her own rooms.

Raleigh turns to her, drawing her gaze. “I promise to leave the toilet seat down,” he says, grinning.

The Sydney LOCCENT Chief chokes so hard Herc has to pound him on the back.

* * *

Of course, the secret won’t keep forever, especially not in the Shatterdomes.

“They’re staring,” she says as they leave the mess hall in the Lima Shatterdome, heading for their quarters before a long day of interviews.

Raleigh tries not to grin. “You had your hand on my thigh at dinner, Mako.” And now he’s on the verge of sporting visible wood.

“I did not.”

“You did.” And not just resting on his thigh, but rubbing her palm up and down the length of his thigh. It was supposed to be soothing, but really was absolute torture. Three inches up and in, and they’d have been liable for sex in a public place – and Raleigh would have let her.

Mako gives him a bewildered look. “But why didn’t you stop me?”

“Because you don’t touch people generally,” Raleigh explains. Even during those first few days Drifting, in the midst of the first rush of connection, she didn’t make physical contact beyond what was absolutely necessary. It was only afterwards that Raleigh realised it – when he wanted her to reach for him and she didn’t. “But you were stroking me.”

“I—I didn’t mean...”

“I liked it.” He lowers his voice, watches the colour jump in her cheeks, the startled flash of her eyes beneath her lashes. “I’d let you stroke me anywhere, Mako.”

The only warning he gets is the flash of her eyes before she pins hims against the corridor wall, hip to hip. “Here?”

His heart gives a great thump before it starts drumming. “If you want.”

They make it to their quarters.

Just not to the bed.

* * *

It all blows up in LA, when Raleigh is caught going down on Mako on live-cam in a dressing room.

There’s nothing to actually see, _per se_ , but it’s pretty obvious what they’re doing when he settles down on his knees and starts licking his way up her thigh. Thankfully, someone with a conscience cuts the feed at that point, and so all the world gets is that brief glimpse of Raleigh’s head sliding under Mako’s skirt.

If they thought it was crazy before, now it’s _insane_.

“You just had to get frisky in a room with a CCTV camera!”

“We didn’t know it was there!” Raleigh reminds Vanessa. “They’re not supposed to hide cameras like that.”

“And they’re getting a huge fine for it,” Vanessa says, massaging the tight cornrows of her hair. “Not that it matters since they promptly auctioned off advertising space at a million bucks per ten seconds before showing the fragment a second time.”

Mako is blushing all the way across her cheeks, up her ears, down her throat, and across her breasts. Raleigh knows this, because his own body is reacting to hers. He was so hard by the time Mako came on his tongue, she had to finish him off in her mouth – and thank God the feed had shut down by then because it was the most erotically intense couple of minutes in his life.

“Will the reaction be so bad?” Mako asks hesitantly.

Vanessa sighs. “I don’t give a fuck whether they have a good or bad reaction, Mako. But you guys should get to be private about _something_.”

* * *

Now that they’re out in the open, it seems there’s no question too intimate to ask, no rumour too wild to publish.

After the second interview, Raleigh tells Vanessa that the next interviewer who asks a question they think is too personal – or too insulting – will be left staring at an empty chair.

Vanessa nods. “I’ll have a word with the producer.”

Mako rubs her fingers up his forearm, probably feeling the tension of the muscles there, for her next question is simply: “Kwoon?”

In the Kwoon, Raleigh lets loose, shedding the anger and annoyance as he falls into the rhythm of the physical dialogue between them. There’s no-one in the universe except Mako, nothing that matters but that they’re here, together, dancing in a unique partnership that’s completely spontaneous and yet utterly perfect.

Afterwards, lying on the mats together, though, Raleigh can feel her anger still burning, not wholly relieved, although modified. No surprise – it’s her the idiots are maligning with their insinuations that she only piloted their Jaeger because she was fucking Raleigh.

Of course, someone outside the PPDC – someone with no knowledge of Mako, no understanding of her history – was always going to question why a ‘rookie’ would even be allowed in a Jaeger Conn-Pod, without understanding that a good rookie Drift worked better than two vet Jaeger pilots with no connection.

In the end, it doesn’t really matter one way or the other – they did what they did, and the people who matter know the truth, while haters were gonna hate.

Mako’s head turns a little, and Raleigh suddenly laughs as she mentally hums a song from a dozen years past.

They lie there in silence, with music floating through their heads.

* * *

“Thanks for letting us stay with you over the lunar new year.” Raleigh offers his hand to Sergio D’Onofrio as Mako and Dr. Lightcap hug in the way that women do.

D’Onofrio smiles, faint and droll. “Well, we’re fond of Mako.”

“And we’re glad to see you again, Raleigh,” says Caitlin Lightcap. She doesn’t look at her husband and co-pilot, but Raleigh can almost feel the chiding laugh behind the words before she pulls him down and kisses him on the cheek. “Come inside before the entertainment crews decide to try a chopper overhead.”

“They’re allowed to do that?”

“No, but that won’t stop them,” D’Onofrio says. “Especially not with you two in the house.”

“We are sorry—”

“Shush, Mako,” says Dr. Lightcap. “You’ve saved the world, and it’s not your fault people are nosey about things which are none of their business.” Something about the way she says it—

It’s not until they’re settled in their room that Raleigh remembers the gossip. It was years ago, back at the very start of the Jaeger program – something about Dr. Lightcap and the man who came up with the idea to fight giant monsters with giant robots?

“It was long over by the time I knew them. And Dr. Schoenfeld was always polite when they met.” _But he always seemed a little sad._ Mako sheds her jacket, then flops down on the bed with a happy sigh. “It is nice to stay somewhere where people will not pick up after me.”

Raleigh laughs at that.

* * *

Their Lunar New Year is relatively quiet. The PPDC agreed to a one-week break of the tour, and apart from one visit to the Anchorage Shatterdome for a PPDC reunion and an interview, they’re spending that time quietly with the first ever Jaeger pilots.

It’s a...well, a revelation.

Because Raleigh knows the Drift connection as it pertains to a wartime footing; someone in his head, ready for battle, with an endpoint in mind. But Dr. Lightcap and Captain D’Onofrio – Caitlin and Sergio – know it as something that underpins their quiet, almost reclusive existence.

Sergio mostly consults with the PPDC inbetween parenting the couple’s two children. “They’re not that different, really,” he admits over his son’s screaming tantrum one morning. “People who don’t listen and then sulk when it all goes wrong.”

Caitlin is still the foremost expert in neurotech interfaces, and the head of one of the major research and development powerhouses - started up when the PPDC began cutting down the program. “There are so many possibilities in the Drift,” she says to them late one night. “Not just technical, but social – a better understanding of who we are as people and how we might connect with each other.”

And there’s a harmony there – a connection and purpose between them, that might be the Drift connection, but which might just be the end result of lives lived together for the better part of ten years.

“You want this for us,” Mako says one night when the kids – Pilar and Jason – are being wrangled to bed. “Peace and a family.”

Raleigh reaches out for her with his hand and his heart. “Mako. If I have you then everything else is optional.”

* * *

“You’re sure you’re ready for this?” Raleigh asks at the door.

Mako slips her hand into his and smiles. “Yes.”

The house is large and empty and waiting to be filled – a thousand hopes and dreams as yet unvoiced, without shape or form, still waiting to become.

They’ll fulfil them together.


End file.
